


I'd like to hang out with you (my whole life)

by anneweaver



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, proposal fic, this was saved under 'huntingbird trash document' and that says it all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 19:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2593676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anneweaver/pseuds/anneweaver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing is, Lance Hunter didn’t plan to pop the question in the middle of a fight, it just sort of happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd like to hang out with you (my whole life)

1.

Lance Hunter is not a particularly romantic person. He had made peace with that fact a long time ago –specifically, after four consecutive relationships failed because he just couldn’t bring himself to say “I love you”– but, thankfully, he had found a woman who was more than okay with his lack of emotional expressiveness to make up for that fact –and who was, coincidentally, the only woman who made him want to be more expressive–.

His lack of ability to verbalize any emotion other than anger and annoyance was proving to be a problem, however, once he realized that, _damn, I really would like to spend the rest of my life with this woman._ But, really, how exactly do you plan and deliver a grand romantic gesture when you can’t even bring yourself to buy her flowers for her birthday?

The answer –or, really, a small part of the answer– comes to him one afternoon when she comes home and says “I have to leave on a mission tomorrow. Shouldn’t be too long, but you know how these things can be…” before kissing him on the lips and dropping a grocery bag and the keys on top of the kitchen table.

“Did you at least remember to bring milk this time?” he asks, and she rolls her eyes in response.

“Yes, Lance, I did,” she says, slowly, and then mutters, “completely useless when I’m out, can’t even remember to buy his own milk, God,” when she’s taking her shoes off and walking to the living room.

He is going to marry _the hell out_ of this woman.

-o-

“You know,” Lance says, later that night, and Bobbi takes her eyes off the book she’s reading to look at him. He swallows, “I was thinking, when you come back, well…”

“Just spit it out, Hunter,” she says, but there’s a hint of amusement in her voice, and there it is, that’s the reason he wants to marry her. She makes him _do_ things, however unpleasant, and he is very grateful.

“Do you want to go out on a date? I mean, a real date. We haven’t been on a date in a while and I’ve heard it’s important for couples to go out on dates and even though we live together and have movie nights every two weeks, that just _can’t_ qualify as a date, you know, so maybe–” he stops for a moment and glances at her. She’s staring at him with a small grin on her face and her eyebrows raised. He sighs. “You just love it when I start rambling, don’t you?”

She snorts.

“Yep.”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” he points out. She looks down at the book again.

“Well, I guess I’d like to go on a real date with you again,” she says, and then smirks, eyes still fixed on the book, “about _damn_ time, Hunter, it’s been _months_ –”

“Oh, c’mon.”

-o-

Lance doesn’t notice the suspicious looks Bobbi is giving him the next morning. He doesn’t notice how she’s been subtly searching the house since she woke up.

When he says “Don’t die out there, alright? I love you,” he doesn’t notice the almost teasing tone in her voice when she replies “and miss the date you’re planning? Never.” And he’s too busy making a mental list of things he would need for the date when she kisses him, so he doesn’t notice the smirk on her face before she turns around and walks out the door.

As soon as she’s out, he grabs his phone and calls the only person he knows will put up with him for the rest of the day –because, mostly, she’s one of the three people in the world who can actually _stand_ him–.

“Isabelle?” he says, as soon as she picks up, “I need your help. And I need it right now.”

 

2.

Lance Hunter doesn’t have many regrets. He wouldn’t call himself the king of smart choices, but, at the same time, most of the decisions he’s made so far have led him to a good career, a great woman, and very loyal friends. So, no, he doesn’t have regrets. Not really.

Except asking for Izzy and Mack’s help. That is definitely something he regrets, big time.

He sits on a bench outside the fourth jewelry shop they’ve been to, buries his face in his hands and questions everything he’s ever believed in, while Izzy and Mack argue, completely oblivious to his current state.

“I’m just saying, man, what he needs to do is choose one of those rings with a diamond bigger than her finger,” Mack rambles on, while Izzy stands, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, in front of him, “and that’s really saying something because she’s pretty big–”

“And I’m telling you that she _won’t_ wear that,” Izzy snaps, interrupting Mack’s monologue, “a small ring is perfectly okay, trust me, we _have_ discussed this during our sleepovers–”

“You used to have sleepovers?”

“We went to the Academy together, of course we– that’s not the point! The point is, I know her, I have discussed this with her, multiple times, actually, and–”

“Oh, please, you’re trying to tell me that Barbara Morse wants a _small ring_?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m trying to tell you–”

“Will you both shut up?” Lance finally snaps, and both Izzy and Mack look at him. He glares at them. “You should be _ashamed_. I am having a major crisis right now and you’re _not helping_.”

“We are trying to help, man,” Mack says, but he does sound ashamed of himself, which makes Lance feel a little better. Izzy, on the other hand…

“No offense, Hunter, but you’re the one who should be ashamed,” she says, coldly, and Lance narrows his eyes. She shrugs. “What? I’m serious. You’re expecting me to believe you’re calm and collected enough to propose to _Bobbi Morse_ of all people, but all I can see right now is a mess of a man having a mild panic attack in the middle of the street because he hasn’t found the perfect ring or whatever it is you want to do. Seriously? I mean–” her phone rings, interrupting her little (and very unwelcome) speech, and she holds a finger up, turns her back to both Mack and Lance and takes the call. Her voice goes from ‘concerned best friend of the hopefully-bride-to-be’ to ‘super-spy’ in a matter of seconds. “Yes,” she says, and nods. “No. Yes. Mh-hm. I will. Something like that. Alright. Yes. Not a word,” and hangs up.

There’s a rather terrifying grin on Izzy’s face when she faces them again. Lance and Mack stare at her, curiously.

“Work stuff,” she says, but that grin on her face says otherwise and, frankly, Lance is a little scared. Mack only raises an eyebrow, and her grin grows bigger, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Can we forget about work stuff for a moment here, guys?” Lance pleads. “Can we focus on the task at hand?”

“You didn’t even let me finish my little pep talk,” Izzy says.

“Thankfully.”

 

2.5.

Bobbi Morse is one of the best spies in SHIELD (and, if she can say so herself, the world) and she’s confident she got there because she uses her skills in every aspect of her life, including but not limited to charming the cashier into charging her less money every time she buys something, finding the perfect pair of shoes in the perfect size with only one brief look around the store, and realizing her boyfriend wants to propose to her.

She’s a woman in love, very in love, but she can’t just simply turn off her spy skills at will. As much as she tries to convince herself that whatever Lance will do is going to turn out well, and as much as she tries to stop thinking about it because she shouldn’t even know it’s happening, her instincts are urging her to take control of the situation. Not only that, but if she knows Lance at all, which she does, it means she knows he hasn’t even bought a ring yet –and a quick search of their house confirms this–, and she’s willing to bet that Izzy and Mack are currently helping him out with that, failing, and trying to stop him from having a full blown nervous breakdown.

Lance Hunter can be in control of many things, but his love life isn’t and has never been one of those. That’s why, for the sake of her boyfriend’s sanity, and for her own sake –because as a woman in love, she also would very much like for this moment to be perfect– she decides to take matters into her own hands.

She takes advantage of the safe house she’s currently in and calls Isabelle. When she answers the phone, Bobbi doesn’t waste any time.

“Lance is about to ask me to marry him, isn’t he?” She asks

“Yes,” Izzy says. Bobbi can’t help the grin that takes over her face.

“He doesn’t have a ring yet, does he?”

“No.”

“You’re helping him out with that?”

“Yes.”

“You’re at the jewelry shop right now, aren’t you?”

“Mh-hm.”

“Make sure he doesn’t buy a big ring, I can’t wear that on my missions.”

“I will.”

“Is he having a breakdown yet?”

“Something like that.” To this, Bobbi sighs. She knows her man too well.

“Please make sure he pulls himself together long enough not to screw it up.”

“Alright.”

“And will you _please_ help him plan the date?”

“Yes.”

“And I don’t have to remind you–”

“Not a word,” Izzy says, and Bobbi hangs up the phone.

When she goes to finish her mission, she can feel herself walking a little lighter.

 

3.

Turns out, Lance hasn’t even _started_ planning the date when he gets a call from his captain demanding his presence at the base and saying “SHIELD asked for our help.”

He can only drop the phone, bury his face on a pillow (Bobbi’s pillow) and groan.

-o-

Isabelle calls when he’s about to leave the base with his troop. He answers immediately, and he’s sure she can hear the disappointment in his voice when he says “I’m about to leave on a mission, be quick.”

There’s not a laugh on the other side of the phone. Izzy is not the kind of person who would resist laughing at him for that.

“Yeah, I know,” she says, and there’s not even a hint of amusement in her voice, it’s all tension and worry and he can feel the blood leaving his face, “heads up: things got slightly bad. You won’t like what you’ll find today.”

“What?” he asks, completely confused. “How can you know that?”

“You do know you’re working with SHIELD on this one, right?” She asks back.

“Yeah,” he replies, and then it dawns on him that Izzy wouldn’t be calling him to say cryptic messages about his mission unless…

He closes his eyes.

“Oh, no.”

-o-

The thing is, Lance Hunter didn’t _plan_ to pop the question in the middle of a fight, it just sort of happened.

Not like he had time to actually pop the question, though.

He’s mostly there as her back-up, because she has everything under control, as she always does. She makes it look so easy, so effortless, the way she just takes down three guys with her batons and kicks a fourth guy in the face and even has time to grin, and he just can’t hold it in anymore.

He shoots one of the guys rushing towards him, then briefly looks at her and just blurts out “Hey, Bob?”

“Mhm?” she says, and it comes out a little breathless, but he definitely sees a smile on her face when she kicks a guy in the groin and elbows him in the head.

“I was wondering–” he starts, but he’s interrupted by a guy grabbing his neck. It doesn’t even last a second, though, because a flying object hits the guy on the head and then he sees the guy and one of Bobbi’s batons on the floor. He grins, picks up the baton and looks at her. She’s surrounded by unconscious men, and she’s twirling her other baton on her hand, and she’s got a look on her face that can only be described as bashful.

“Yes,” she says. It comes out softly, and very tender and so unlike her. He narrows his eyes.

“What?” He asks, the confusion clear in his voice. Her little smile grows bigger.

“You can be pretty clueless sometimes, Hunter,” she replies, and that does sound more like her, but he’s still confused.

“Well, I sure as hell am clueless right now,” he retorts.

“I know you’re going to ask me to marry you. The answer is yes,” she says, and _oh_.

In retrospect, he should have known she knew. She’s a spy, her life depends on being able to pick up the smallest of things and use them to her advantage and he’s not _really_ that subtle, so of course she would have noticed. And even if she hadn’t known, there is the Isabelle Hartley factor, which is something he should’ve considered before asking for her help. The fact that he thought he would be able to keep this a secret is sort of pathetic, now that he thinks about it.

But none of those things matter anymore, not once he realizes that there are about twelve unconscious evil guys on the floor and Bobbi Morse has just agreed to marry him.

He is sort of dumbstruck right now, though, which is why he doesn’t close the distance between them and instead just stands there, staring at her and gaping, like a fish out of water. She’s still smiling.

“Are you going to say something, or…” she says, and she’s definitely teasing him now and he loves her so much.

“I didn’t even bring the ring,” is all he manages to let out. She shakes her head.

-o-

Somehow, Bobbi’s superior officer is understanding enough to let her skip debriefing and go straight home with him, and he makes a quick mental note to send her flowers one of these days.

His captain, though, would be a bit more difficult.

“So what you’re trying to tell me,” he says, “is that you want to skip debriefing because you just asked that beautiful woman over there to marry you and she said yes?” Lance only nods.

“Well, I didn’t exactly get to ask her.” he clarifies, and the captain nods slowly. He’s looking at her from a distance, and she’s just casually chatting with some of her coworkers, blonde hair flowing beautifully and resting on her shoulders. She laughs for a moment, and notices he’s looking at her. She winks.

“You’re a very lucky man,” the captain says. Lance grins.

“Trust me, sir, I’m well aware of that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I did what I could.  
> Infinite thanks to Emma for beta-ing and being the best, and also infinite thanks to all the awesome people at Twitter who yell with me like three times a day over these two idiots and how much they still love each other. Special shoutout to Rach for seriously _saving_ this fic with her drunk headcanons. ♥♥♥ THANK YOU RACH (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ♥♥♥


End file.
